Seeklets: As One
by BooLoo2
Summary: It is said that a Guardian Angel is one who will sooth the greatest pains and ask merely for love in turn. Perhaps angels aren't as distant as they seem. Light slash. Baby seekers!


**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers…**

**Warning:** Unbetaed…(Will be more thoroughly edited soon.)

**Summary:** It is said that a Guardian Angel is one who will sooth the greatest pains and ask merely for love in turn. Perhaps angels aren't as distant as they seem. Light slash. Baby seekers!

**AN:** The cycle is complete! The command trine, the conehead trine, and now this one. I hope you enjoy this bit of seeklets fluffiness!

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><p><strong>Seeklets: As One<strong>

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><p>The young seeklet felt a light chill run the length of his back strut, his wing nubs twitching ever so slightly at the unfamiliar sensation, like a gentle caress down his back. He chirped at the strange feeling, not for the first time wondering what it was that caused such things as chills.<p>

He chirped his confusion, face scrunching up in concentration, wing nubs fluttering this way and that.

His creator glanced down at him, optics bright and flickering between white and pale yellow, like a storm brewing behind hazy clouds. His face was expressionless, lips unmoving as they had seemingly always been, but when he reached down to his sparkling, it was with a soft hand. He took his sparkling's hand, and his face seemed to soften despite its unmoving nature.

The little one chirped happily, puffing out his chassis proudly for his creator and gripping the large hand around his own with stubby fingers, his face taking on the expression of fierce seriousness, though in reality it looked more like a stubborn pout. He held that pose until his creator finally turned away with those flickering, stormy optics, and merely smoothed the top of his sparkling's small helm before turning to walk away, hand still loosely holding his creation's.

His creator headed for the large tower naught but a few towers from their home, and the sparkling followed, wide optics searching and innocent face still scrunched funnily in thought; ever the observer.

Still, he could not help but feel curious at the growing warmth in his spark chamber with each step he took.

He chirped softly as he rubbed at his chest plates.

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><p>"Your function is to obey the command of our liege, Lord Megatron. You have no other purpose; the greatest honor you can ever achieve is his favor; the only goal you will ever have is the Decepticon's victory over the Autobots. Is that clear?" The tall, red-opticed guardian lectured the newly recruited seeker younglings, back rigid and gaze piecing as he evaluated the new, soon-to-be soldiers.<p>

Some of the seeker younglings fidgeted, others gave weak confirmations, too shy or scared to do much else.

Shockwave sneered silently at the young seekers, inwardly cursing, not for the first time, their lack of military training.

Worthless, the lot of them, but he'd make soldiers of them yet.

The arm cannon at his side swirled to life, his entire posture turning from that of strict commander to deadly dictator instantly. "Is that clear?" He repeated harshly, optic already seeking out a suitable target, slow and calculating as it flicked from face to face with the same precision he did everything with.

"Yes, master Shockwave." The younglings answered simultaneously, optics bright with fear and sparks rotating too quickly in their small chassis', their wings shaking with the force of their emotions. This was been the first time most of they'd ever been threatened to be fired upon- and many hoped it would be their last.

The smarter ones knew better.

Shockwave nodded once, curtly, and turned to the entryway when the sound of an approaching figure echoed lightly through the hall beside his training room. His optic brightened for the briefest moment in acknowledgment, before he went back to drilling the younglings under his supervision.

In the hall, the seeker with the stormy yellow optics gave a shallow bow of his helm silently towards the drill instructor as he passed, wings held stiff and alert. Beside him, his sparkling tilted his helm in curiosity before mimicking his creator's posture, ever seeking to meet his creator's standards of functionality.

They passed by without a sound.

When they'd passed out of Shockwave's sight though, the older seeker's lips pulled tight and his expression became dark, much like an impending storm on the horizon.

For the first time that cycle, he spoke.

"Aci-i-i-dsto-o-orm." He stuttered out with much effort, his neck cables flexing and straining with very word. "Sta-a-ay he-e-re-e." And with that, his expression fell to a lazy impassiveness that had come to define his character, a poker face that could send chills down ones spinal strut.

The youngling clicked unhappily, understanding what was to happen, as it always did when his creator's expression became like that, reaching out for his creator's hand as the larger seeker began to move away, his tiny wing nubs flickering about in distress. He chirped and clicked, giving high whistles to gain his creator's attention back from the darkness he had slipped into.

It was all for naught.

Throughout it all, Acidstorm did not move as he gave one last keen of anguish as he watched his creator disappear behind the closed door, the door where all the older seeker went when they traveled these halls, the door with the flashing red light overhead.

Acidstorm went quiet, eerily so, watching the red light flicker and glow in its hypnotic dance. His wing nubs shook and his hands were tightly wrung, suppressing another whimper, but he did not cry.

He had leaned long ago that crying would get him nothing.

But just as he was about to sit down on his tiny rear and sulk over the loss of his creator yet again, he heard a most chilling sound echoing much further down the hall, making him jump in fright and tense.

It was a low, haunting sound that carried its lingering presence much the way the traces of death upon white walls would, and it terrified Acidstorm. But still, curious at spark and nerves toughed from living beside mechs of war for so long, the young seeker was not to be denied finding the cause of the powerful pull of his spark, a pull that seemed to be leading him right to the sound. A pull he could not deny.

So, with his trembling wing nubs held high in a show of defiance and his quivering chassis huffed in determination, the little seeklet marched down the hall with every bit of bravo he could gather.

His little spark- pulsed.

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><p>When he found the door the haunting sound was coming from, he paused, a surge of doubt overwhelming him for the briefest of moments as he once more heard the low, agonizing pitch of whatever unfortunate creature lay beyond the imposing door of thick, stainless steel. The door alone was enough to unnerve him. It was obviously meant to take severe abuse, and by the various welds and patched off areas on the edges, it seemed to see a lot of it. The sight made Acidstorm tremble a bit, but the pull on his spark, still growing ever stronger, pulled him closer, step by agonizing step.<p>

Suddenly, the sounds stopped all together, and the tiny seeklet was not sure if that was a good thing or not.

He clicked softly, wide optics searching the area around the door, tiny helm swerving from one side to the other as his little processor struggled to come up with a suitable course of action regarding the situation.

For a while he came up blank and keened at the unfairness of in all, still too young to properly handle the stress of being unable to get to the source of this frantic pulsing within his little chassis. Fat, shining tears of soft blue lubricants began to gather at the edges of his optics, the pain of being kept apart from whatever lay on the other side of the door more painful than his creator's leaving ever had.

A shuffling from inside the room, the intense feeling of heat coming from the door, and with a confused, startled click Acidstorm stumbled back, his little rear making contact with the floor, jerking the gathered tears to fall down his cheeks. The tiny seeklet sniffed in confusion and fear as his world seemed to heating rapidly, the bottom edge of the door shining bright gold.

"By Pim'us powew in me. Open dis door so I can get my Guawdian Angel!" A young but powerful voice came from the slowly appearing hole at the bottom of the door, the beginnings of a hand managing to force its way through the slopping mass of liquid metal.

Acidstorm's optics shot open, his little mouth opening and closing in shock as that hand was followed by an arm, and shortly after followed by a helm whose golden optics locked with his even as the gold liquid shone radiantly down his plating, leaving gold tears down his face.

"Guawdian Angel." The voice spoke, those still too bright, golden optics never swaying from Acidstorm's face as a gold encased hand came to reach for the little, green seeklet, streams of liquid gold dripping to the floor in great streams, reflecting the light of the radiant being.

There should have been fear, a panic at the sight unfolding before him, but none was present in the little seeklet's mind. All he could feel was the warmth bursting forth in his spark, the absolute rightness of it, and all he saw was the beauty, the gold light bathing the world in shades of soft yellow and vivid orange.

Against all reason, he reached out to that hand, seeking a connection he did not understand. And the gold one smiled, gold tears glowing all the brighter.

Their fingers met, and where once there would have been flames and death, a cloud of gold formed around them as acid rain condensed into a gold sphere of protection, a spark of fire and flame becoming one with a spark as dense as the mounting storm.

"Pim'us makes us one. I feel it- in here" The seeker youngling chirped happily, a joy beyond anything he'd ever experienced in his short, painful functioning, larger hand encasing the younger's in a tight grasp as he brought it to his spark casing. "You stopped the pain. Pim'us's Angel."

The younger chirped, unable to speak, unable to pull away, entranced and understanding all at once. Without hesitation, he clicked up at the older seeklet and nuzzled his way into a firm embrace, anchoring himself to the form of light and gold, content to be held in a way his creator had never been able to give him.

"We awe one." The gold one whispered softly as he held the other, feeling the way his spark pulsed gently in his chamber. "And one day I will be pawt of Pim'us too. And you will be with me."

Acidstorm chirped, unable to understand the mention of this _Pim'us_ the other spoke of, but he did understanding the promise perfectly clear. Together forever, never to let go.

And beyond the glow of light, a single adult seeker watched with those flickering, stormy yellow optics, a soft, almost smile etched across his thin lips.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> The Cuteness, it burns me! Literally! Oh, Sunstorm and Acidstorm are so sweet together! Why can't I find more fic about them anyhow? All well, fans will write what they want to write and I can only put out for those who like the same parings I do. Hope you enjoyed this little bit of seeker fluff.

**Please review…**


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